


If I Loved You

by wiltedviolets



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Character, Coming Out, Introspection, M/M, Possibly Unrequited Love, Queer Themes, Self-Discovery, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-12
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-24 13:20:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2582858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wiltedviolets/pseuds/wiltedviolets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tamaki knows he’s broken hearts before, but none of them have ever hurt him like this. He wants to undo everything, to just be Tamaki and Kyoya again, without all of these messy, complicated feelings between them, but there’s no going back from this. The only thing to do from here is to go forward — but Tamaki’s not sure which way forward is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Loved You

**Author's Note:**

> Initially, this was supposed to be an experiment in writing unrequited love from the perspective of the character being crushed on, rather than the other way around, but it my outline seems to have gotten away from me.
> 
> This is rated M as a blanket rating and may later go up to E, but if you're reading this for just for smut, you're going to be disappointed. Any sex that may happen in this is a long, long way off.

It starts unassumingly, on a Wednesday in September. There’s no theme at the host club today, no costumes, just guests and hosts around tables. And as much as Tamaki likes the theatrics — thrives on it, even — it’s this quiet intimacy that feels like home.

It’s a slow day at the club, even for Tamaki. There are only four guests scheduled for him today. The other hosts have even less. Tamaki doesn’t mind much, but he’s sure it frustrates Kyoya.

Two of his guests are regulars, but the two at his table now are new for him. He recognizes one of them dimly. She’s come in periodically in the past few weeks, at roughly the same time, but hovers at the outer corner of the room and shies away from any contact with the hosts themselves. The only one of the hosts she’s spoken to at all before now is Haruhi, so Tamaki is a bit surprised to see she’d requested him. He’s never seen the other girl at all, but the two seem to be friends. First years, Tamaki thinks.

“So, my dears, what brings you two lovely flowers to the host club today?” Tamaki asks brightly. He pours a cup of tea for the first girl — Natsumi, if he remembers correctly.

Natsumi ducks her head and hides her blush behind the curtain of her bangs, then mumbles something Tamaki can’t hear.

“Pardon, my dear?” Tamaki says, his voice honey-sweet. “If you don’t speak up, I can’t hear your lovely voice.”

Her friend — Hitomi, according to the reservation — giggles behind her hand, but looks apologetic at Natsumi’s hurt face. Hitomi leans forward over the table. In a conspiratorial whisper, she explains, “She’s here to see a certain host, but she’s too shy to approach him.”

“Oh?” he says. It’s unusual, but not unheard of, to hear something like this. Tamaki gives Natsumi his most charming smile. “As flattered as I am that you came to me first, I can assure you that all of our hosts are perfect gentlemen. You have nothing to be afraid of. Tell me, which host did you have your eye on? I’d be more than happy to introduce you.”

She doesn’t say anything, not at first, but her eyes unmistakably flit to something — or rather, some _one_ — just behind Tamaki. He doesn’t need to look, but he does anyway. And there, only a few yards away from him, stands Kyoya, scribbling in his notebook without so much as an upward glance.

“I tried to make a reservation, but…” Natsumi’s wispy voice trails off, and she shifts in her seat.

“But she got an email back saying Kyoya isn’t seeing guests one on one,” Hitomi finishes.

Kyoya chooses that moment to look up, locking eyes with Tamaki. Kyoya lifts an eyebrow in question, as if sensing that he’s being talked about. Tamaki shoots him back a dazzling smile, and Kyoya sighs in what Tamaki can only describe as fond exasperation before looking back down at his notebook.

“Why doesn’t he take reservations?” Natsumi asks, and Tamaki turns back around to face her.

“Kyoya’s very busy with the management of the club,” he says smoothly. It’s not a lie, per se, but it’s not something Kyoya’s ever talked about, either. “He hates that he doesn’t have the opportunity to chat with you lovely ladies as much as the rest of us, but it’s the sacrifice he makes to keep our club running smoothly.”

“Oh? Is that all?” Hitomi says. She sounds suspicious, almost, and Tamaki’s not sure what to make of it.

Tamaki gives her his most winning smile. “Are you suggesting there’s some other reason Kyoya is choosing not to see guests?”

“Well, there is a rumor—” Hitomi starts.

“Shh, no, don’t say that!” Natsumi hisses. “It’s not even true, and you’re just making it worse.”

“Now, now, my dears,” Tamaki soothes. “I won’t have anyone speaking ill of any of my fellow hosts. Why don’t you tell me this rumor so that I can lay it to bed?”

Natsumi worries her lip. “It’s just something people say, is all. Because he never takes appointments for girls at the club. And he doesn’t date. And because, um.” She shifts in her seat and glances back up at Tamaki.

“Because?”

Natsumi looks back down at the table, the color rising high in her cheeks.

“Because of you,” Hitomi finishes, when Natsumi can’t.

“Because of me?” Tamaki blinks. Do people think Tamaki is doing something to stop Kyoya from seeing guests? That he’s monopolizing his time, or that he’s jealous of Kyoya? He can’t even imagine doing something so selfish.

“You really don’t know, do you?” Hitomi sounds almost sympathetic.

“What exactly _is_ this rumor?” Tamaki asks.

“Well,” Hitomi starts, then hesitates. “That Kyoya’s gay.”

By the time Tamaki finds the words to respond his next two guests are there, and Natsumi is slinking away with Hitomi in tow.

* * *

Tamaki tries to put it out of his mind, but the word rings in his head like a siren. But it’s not the _gay_ of it all that’s throwing him; though Tamaki’s never actively suspected Kyoya of liking men, he wouldn’t be terribly surprised by it, either. After all, Kyoya’s never shown any particular interest in women. No, it’s the rest of it that he can’t shake.

 _Because of you_ , she’d said. He tries to puzzle out the implications, then wonders why it even matters to him. It’s just a rumor, after all, and if Tamaki let every rumor about the host club that passed through the halls worm its way into his brain, he’d get less sleep than Kyoya. He should just forget about it. But for whatever reason, this time, he can’t.

“If you don’t stop staring off into space like that, your food is going to get cold.”

“Huh?” Tamaki snaps back to the present, where Kyoya is staring at him impassively over his lunch. “Sorry, I was just thinking about something.”

“For you, that could be dangerous,” Kyoya remarks.

“Don’t you want to ask me what I was thinking about?” Tamaki says, indignant.

“Frankly, no, I don’t.” Kyoya folds up his napkin and places it on the table. “Finish your lunch before you make us late for class.”

Tamaki shovels the last half of his food into his mouth in a supremely inelegant fashion before racing after Kyoya, who’s already out the door.

 _Because of you_. It’s preposterous, really.

* * *

That should be the end of it, but it isn’t.

Natsumi and her friend are back the same time next Wednesday, sitting at Tamaki’s table right as the club opens. Tamaki knows that what she really wants is to spend time with Kyoya, and he considers just asking Kyoya to take the girl for the day. It would make her happy, and Tamaki’s pretty sure that if it were him asking, Kyoya would say yes. But something holds him back, though he’s not sure what.

Normally, Tamaki tries to keep conversation focused on his guests, but with Natsumi, she doesn’t quite seem interested in talking about herself. Instead, she seems intent on asking him questions about Kyoya.

His favorite color. His favorite animal. His favorite food. His favorite book. She wants to know everything, it seems. As strange as it is, he sees no reason not to tell her.

But then she asks something that’s not so easy to answer.

“Has he ever been in love?” she whispers, her eyes shining.

Hitomi presses her lips together in disapproval, but doesn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Princess,” Tamaki says, “but if he has, he’s never said as much to me. Romantically, Kyoya’s a bit of a closed book, I’m afraid.”

“I bet he has,” Hitomi says, looking from Natsumi to Tamaki.

Her words from last week ring in his head clear as a bell. _Because of you._ “You really think so?”

“Would it be so strange?” she asks, and Tamaki wonders.

* * *

That Friday, they’re in classical Greek garb. It’s Tamaki’s idea, but as usual, Kyoya is the one that brings it to life.

Tamaki’s sandals are complicated golden things that lace all the way up to the knee, and he spends five minutes fighting with them before Kyoya finally takes pity on him and plops down beside him on the sofa.

“You’re just going to make it worse, moron,” Kyoya says, as he pulls Tamaki’s feet into his lap.

His fingers move over Tamaki’s bare calf with intimate familiarity, and if Kyoya feels anything deeper than reticent annoyance, it doesn’t show on his face. Would Kyoya do this if he loved him? Would he do this if he didn’t?

Tamaki tries to think of a time Kyoya’s shown interest in anyone, male or female, and comes up blank. They’ve been friends for almost four years now and Tamaki doesn’t know if Kyoya’s ever been in love.

“Hey, Kyoya?” Tamaki says. “You’d tell me if you were in love with someone, right?”

Kyoya finishes securing his right foot, then starts on his left.  “What are you on about?”

“If you were in love with someone,” Tamaki repeats. “You’d tell me, right?”

Kyoya’s fingers go still on his laces, but he doesn’t look up. Tamaki feels like he’s on the edge of something. He leans in toward Kyoya, but his face is unreadable.

“So if Tamaki-senpai is Achilles, does that make you Patroclus, Kyoya-senpai?” Haruhi asks, staring down at them. She’s already in costume, picture perfect as Ganymede. Tamaki hadn’t even noticed her approach.

“I doubt Achilles needed Patroclus’s help to put on his sandals.” Kyoya pulls Tamaki’s laces just this side of too tight before pushing Tamaki’s feet away.

Later, one of the guests asks, “Weren’t Achilles and Patroclus lovers?” She hides her cheeks, stained pink, behind her hands. The other girls around them giggle.

“That’s been a source of debate among scholars for centuries,” Kyoya says. “Plato and Shakespeare certainly thought so, as did Alexander the Great, but it was never suggested in the Homeric canon. Of course, if you’re fond of classical literature, you might be interested in our newest photobook. It’s a bit pricier than the last one, but I think you’ll find that the quality on this one more than makes up for the extra yen. It won’t be out for another month, but if you reserve a copy now, you’ll receive a bonus full photo spread of the host of your choice as well as a discounted reservation price.”

The girls listen in rapt attention as Kyoya explains their newest merchandise, their questions forgotten in the clamor to secure their reservations.

But even later, listening to Kyoya talk about merchandise and profit margins, Tamaki still can’t put it from his mind.

“Were Achilles and Patroclus lovers?” Tamaki says, interrupting him, though it’s not the real question he wants to ask.

Kyoya sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Tamaki, they weren’t _real_.”

“But in the myth,” he says. “I mean, for the photobook—”

“For the photobook we’re doing iconic moments from _The Iliad_ ,” Kyoya says. “Anything beyond that is open to our guests’ interpretation.”

Kyoya closes his notebook with a snap and leaves Tamaki to untangle himself from his sandals alone.

* * *

The host club is busy next week, and nearly every girl that passes through the door wants to reserve a copy of the new photobook. Renge is already promising an accompanying doujinshi collection, as well, and Kyoya has agreed to endorse it officially in exchange for a hefty portion of the profits. Needless to say, Kyoya is in exceptionally high spirits this week.

He doesn’t see Natsumi or Hitomi at all that week. He almost forgets about the rumor, until the day of the Greek photoshoot.

Tamaki doesn’t even try to lace up his sandals on his own today; he doesn’t get the chance. As soon as Kyoya’s finished with his own, he sets to work on Tamaki’s.

Renge, who’s here to help with the shoot, is nearly vibrating with excitement nearby. “This is so perfect, Achilles and Patroclus! Brothers-in-arms, each who died for the love of the other,” she gushes, to no one in particular. “Oh, I couldn’t have asked for better material, it’s so romantic!”

“Remember to keep it appropriate,” Kyoya says tersely, as he finishes Tamaki’s sandal. “We’re giving you our endorsement, but in exchange, you’re not to publish anything the guests wouldn’t expect to see in the club itself, understand?”

“Oh, you worry too much, Kyoya.” Renge dismisses him with a wave. “Now let me see the sets, I need to know what I’m working with today.”

Kyoya sighs and stands up. “I’ll be back in a moment,” he says. “Make sure Haruhi’s ready, since the Ganymede shoot is first.”

Tamaki doesn’t really need to check on Haruhi, and he’s sure Kyoya knows that, but he does anyway.

She’s all ready except for her hair, and she gives him a funny look as she pins on her wig. “You’ve seemed really distracted the past few weeks, Senpai,” Haruhi says. “Is everything okay?”

Tamaki thinks about brushing it off. After all, it’s getting dangerously close to the end of his and Kyoya’s last year at Ouran, and it wouldn’t be a lie to say that it was distracting him. But that stupid rumor is still bouncing around in his head, and this is Haruhi. _Haruhi_ , who is probably the most level-headed person knows, and one of the few people who actually _knows_ Kyoya. If there’s anyone who can help him clear his head, it’s Haruhi.

“Oh, it’s nothing, really,” Tamaki says. “Just this ridiculous rumor I heard from one of our guests not too long ago — and about _Kyoya_ , if you can believe it. It’s actually pretty funny, now that I think about it.”

“About Kyoya-senpai?” Haruhi looks up at Tamaki in the mirror, her wig only half-pinned. “What kind of rumor? I can’t imagine Kyoya-senpai would let some rumor float around about him without putting a stop to it, at least not if he knew about it. Is it something bad?”

“Well it’s not bad, per se,” Tamaki says. “Just ridiculous, is all. I mean, people are actually saying that Kyoya is in love with _me_. I mean, can you believe it?” Tamaki expects Haruhi to laugh, and even starts to laugh himself.

But she doesn’t. She stares at him for a moment, as if turning over the information in her head. “Huh,” she says at last. “Actually, I sort of can.”

“You can?” Tamaki repeats. He feels like the world is tilting sideways, and he clings to the wall to stay upright.

“I didn’t want to say anything, because it wasn’t any of my business, but you remember that night at the beachhouse?”

Tamaki couldn’t forget. He’d never really felt angry with Kyoya before, at least not like that. He can still see the image of them sitting the dark on Kyoya’s bed seared in the back of his mind.

“I know what you thought when you walked in, but honestly, that night…” Haruhi tucks the last pin into her wig, then turns to face Tamaki directly. “I got the distinct impression he didn’t want me like that. And he’s never really seemed interested in any other girls, either.”

“But that doesn’t mean he’s in love with me.” Tamaki can feel his heart thudding in his chest. “Maybe Kyoya just isn’t interested in anyone.”

“Maybe,” Haruhi admits. “But I’ve never really seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you.” Tamaki still doesn’t feel convinced, and it must show on his face, because she says, “You know, one time I asked Kyoya why the two of you were such good friends if you were so different. He said that he was friends with you out of selfishness, because he had something to gain from it. I didn’t quite understand what he meant at the time — he doesn’t really get money or power from it, and while the host club gives him plenty of popularity at school, he doesn’t really seem interested in it. But I think maybe if he were in love with you, he might see even enjoying your friendship as something selfish.”

“Haruhi, you’re up!” Kyoya calls from the next room.

“Just think about it,” Haruhi says, and Tamaki stands stricken for a moment before he follows her out.

He sits to one side of the set, plucking idly at the strings of a lyre. It's not tuned properly, and he doesn't really know how to play it besides, but it helps keep his mind off of everything else. He tries to feel out where his fingers should go, tries to find chords, and works out a rough melody.

Haruhi is first as Ganymede, then the twins as Castor and Pollux. Honey and Mori are doing their shoots separately, since they have to shoot around their university schedules, which means Tamaki and Kyoya are last. By the time Hikaru and Kaoru are finished shooting, Tamaki has forgotten about everything but the lyre in front of him.

It's not until he hears the camera shutter go off that he even remembers where he is.

“Oh, wow, that was perfect!” Renge gushes. “I’ll have to edit it to get the right background on it, but that was perfect Achilles.”

Tamaki looks up to see her standing over him with the camera. But it's Kyoya, standing next to her and already in costume, that catches his eye. For a moment, Kyoya looks distant, his gaze focused on Tamaki, and something about the look in his eyes makes Tamaki’s chest constrict. Then he pushes up his glasses and glances away, and the moment is gone.

“Since you’re basically already in character, we should do the shoots with the lyre first!” Renge grabs him by the arm and hauls him to the set, which is just a few small trees and plastic boulders in front of a green screen. (Tamaki would have rather had the shoot outdoors, but Kyoya was insistent that unless they wanted to actually fly to Greece, the green screen would look much better in the end.) “Sit on the boulder and pretend you’re by a river and — no, no, not like that, it should be a profile shot—”

Renge manhandles him into a position that she likes, then jumps back behind the camera.

Tamaki strums at the lyre, but the melody sounds off now, just out of key. When he looks up, Kyoya’s eyes are focused on the computer screen, inspecting each photo as Renge takes it. It disappoints Tamaki, though he doesn’t know why.

After the lyre, they do several standard shots, then a few with the spear and armor. Tamaki is pulling off his helmet and smoothing his hair out when Renge motions Kyoya over.

“Alright, now to get the shots of you two together!” Renge claps her hands together. “Oh, this is going to be so perfect.” Kyoya moves to stand beside Tamaki and Renge makes a face. “Hey, not so fast, Kyoya.” She holds out her hand. “ _Glasses_.”

“What about them?”

Renge huffs. “They’re not historically accurate so hand them over. You can’t wear them for the photoshoot.”

Kyoya looks shaken for a moment, then slips them off with a sigh. “Don’t lose them,” he says, handing them over to Renge. “Or break them.”

She tosses them unceremoniously onto the table then starts tugging the two of them this way and that until she finds a position she likes. Tamaki can’t help but think that her hands spend a little too long on Kyoya’s arms as she arranges them back to back. Then sitting side by side under one of the trees. Then on the boulder and holding the lyre again, with Kyoya on the ground by his feet. For each shoot, Kyoya stares dutifully toward the camera, away from Tamaki.

The next shot is different, though. Tamaki is supposed to be buckling Kyoya into his armor — that is, _Achilles_ ’ armor1 — and it needs to look candid, but Kyoya still isn’t looking at him. “Hey, Kyoya?” Tamaki asks. He adjusts Kyoya’s breastplate idly. “Why did you pick Patroclus for yourself? He’s not especially famous, or strong. He’s really only known for being Achilles’ companion. So why Patroclus?”

Kyoya looks unguarded without his glasses, and he hesitates. It’s only for a moment, but it’s enough.

Then Renge yells at them to change positions again. It’s just the excuse Kyoya needs not to answer, but Tamaki doesn’t need him to.

Kyoya is in love with him.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. In _The Illiad_ , Achilles refuses to fight in the war against the Trojans because Agamemnon wounds his pride. Patroclus can't convince Achilles to return to the battlefield, but Achilles does allow Patroclus to wear his armor to lead Achilles' troops into battle, in hopes that the presence of the Myrmidons, along with the belief that Achilles has returned, will be enough to turn the tide of battle. ([x](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Achilles_and_Patroclus))


End file.
